Tharion was so close now, his breath warm against her skin. Thalina barely had time to react before she felt it—his cock, thick and hard, pressing up against her through the fabric of her skirt.
The pressure was brief, teasing, before her skirt fell back into place, hiding what was underneath. But it didn't matter. She'd felt it. And now, she couldn't stop thinking about it.
Heat flooded her core, a sharp, aching pulse spreading through her. She needed something—anything—to relieve the unbearable tension twisting inside her. But she refused to give in. She had to control herself. She had to.
"You want me. I can tell," Tharion whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
Thalina's breath hitched, her fingers digging into his chest as she glared up at him. "I don't want you," she spat, though the quiver in her voice betrayed her. "It's that stupid drink."
